


Dream any dream you wanted to dream

by Analinea



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Hurt Stiles, M/M, Nightmares, Plane, Some angst, Temporary Character Death, With a happy ending!, but doesn't continue with fluff, creature - Freeform, mindless and plotless hurt, pain and stuff, sorry but it's me what did you expect, starts with fluff, the author did no research whatsoever but there's no /real/ plot so whatever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-10-27 23:58:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10819452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Analinea/pseuds/Analinea
Summary: They board the plane after a really good week-end, but once the plane takes off it seems Stiles is in trouble.





	Dream any dream you wanted to dream

**Author's Note:**

> Like, I wrote this in two hours to air my brain a little from the Sterek Reverse Bang fic I'm writing haha I needed some hurt idk...  
> Tbh this fic could've been like a full on multi-chaptered thing exploring the previous week end and then the following week or whatever, but 1) I have an event fic to finish and another one to start and 2) I'm currently spending 90% of my days reading the Heroes of Olympus series and you can blame Cami for that :p  
> Title from Dream of Life - Alan Watts
> 
> Anyway, enjoy this not-sure-it's-actually-good product of my tired brain.

Stiles rubbed his chest with a frown. Derek leaned closer. “Are you okay?”

Stiles half turned to him and smiled, enjoying this new closeness between them. This trip had been good in the end, despite their initial fears. “Yeah, yeah,” he reassured Derek, “just a tiny ache, probably nervous about the flight back.”

Erica appeared on his other side and captured his arm. “I didn't think Batman could be afraid of anything,” she chuckled, “don't worry I'll protect you.”

“I don't see how you could in a plane crash,” Stiles laughed, “but thanks, I appreciate it, Catwoman.”

“Here you are!” Scott called and waved at them from where he was waiting with Boyd and Isaac. They had taken a separate taxi when it became clear that Stiles and Derek would be delayed by their packing up. It had been quite difficult to locate every clothes of them between their two rooms.

Erica just stayed behind because she took great pleasure in counting in front of them both every dollar she won when Stiles and Derek finally got together at the hotel.

It had been a short week-end to meet the Californian Packs and formally introduce the new Hale Pack. Stiles still wasn't sure why he was there and not Lydia, even though he understood why Allison hadn't been invited.

But point is, the trip had been great, and Stiles came back with the best souvenir ever: a boyfriend.

Something bothered him, still. He couldn't say what. He hadn't lied when he said he was nervous about flying -he always was- but the feeling in his chest, while more of a distant kind of pain, was like a burning shrapnel was embedded next to his heart, and that couldn't be only caused by anxiety.

He said nothing though, because they would be home soon anyway. He'd go see a doctor or just Deaton and sort this out. Maybe this had to do with this Spark every werewolf at the meeting could smell on him.

They boarded the plane, Stiles getting the window seat next to Derek, Scott filling the third place. Behind them were the three other Betas. Stiles looked out at the tarmac, sighing. He hadn't had much rest during the last two days and he felt exhausted.

He was asleep before the plane took off.

 

**No one wants you, you know?**

That's...that's not true, the Pack–

**The Pack? Hah, did you really buy it? How could they like you!**

N– no, they asked me to come with them, and–

**Humoring you. Pitying you. Don't you remember the things they said? The things they did?**

Yes, but–

**Should I make a list? Should I _really_ make a list?**

They apologized! _I_ apologized! And Derek–

**Derek...wasn't it a nice dream? But you do realize it's over now, do you?**

No, it's not–

**How could he ever love you?**

St– stop! Stop!

**Come with me. Follow me. I'll give you better dreams. I'm the only one who wants you.**

Ye...no! _No!_ Hey, no! Please! Stop!

**Sleep well, Spark.**

 

Derek couldn't sleep in the plane, too wired up. With everything that happened during the two-days long meeting, he felt both excited and more at ease than ever. Sure, it didn't change the fact that Beacon Hills, being what it was, would probably throw another crisis at them way too soon. But they had allies now, resources.

More than that, he had been accepted as an Alpha by neighboring Packs, and that meant everything. That meant that he was finally doing a good job, and he could even feel it in the way the bonds with his Betas weren't frayed anymore.

Even Scott had accepted to be part of the Pack, even if he made it clear that he would always be a wild card.

And Stiles. Derek couldn't be more happy about how things had turned out. Nothing had _happened_ , with Stiles still being a minor and all, but they had finally confessed their feelings to each other. Or, well, Stiles had been slightly drunk and said something, and Derek had confronted him the next morning, exhausted by a full night being kept awake by the possibilities that Stiles could have been sober-sincere even after a few drinks.

That's how they spent the second day stuck to each other's side and the second night lightly making out, and Derek had then known the bliss of just holding Stiles in his arms as they both fell asleep.

And he had a lot of dates to prepare for in his near future. Derek tried hard to hid how pleased the prospect made him; Erica had enough material to tease him already.

Derek sighed and turned to look at Stiles. He was fast asleep with his head resting on his crossed arms on the seat table. Though they had met with Californian Pack, they were out of the state -neutral ground- so they had to take the plane. Even for a short two hours flight, Stiles discomfort was obvious. Derek knew Isaac was nervous too, but he was better at hiding it.

It made Derek smile softly. It turned to a frown when Stiles heartbeat started to change. It became faster, a little more erratic. His breath itched once. Derek was sure he was having a nightmare and he hesitated a second. He was sure he had read somewhere that it was bad to wake someone up in the middle of a nightmare.

But then Stiles stopped breathing for a second before letting it out in a low moan and Derek decided that he couldn't let him go through whatever was plaguing him. Plus, he didn't want to bring any attention on them if Stiles started making too much noise.

“Stiles,” Derek called gently, putting hand on Stiles shoulder. He called again, shaking him lightly. And that's when he really started to worry.

Even before they slept in the same bed, Derek had known from nightly visits -for research purposes only _of course_ \- that Stiles was a light sleeper. They all were.

“Stiles?” he tried again, with no more luck. He shook him a little more forcefully, drawing Scott's attention on the situation.

“Something's wrong?” Scott whispered, leaning forward to watch over Derek's shoulder.

“He's not waking up.” Derek grabbed Stiles carefully and pulled so he was leaned back in his seat. He was completely unresponsive but his breath was still catching and his heartbeat slightly fast.

Derek recoiled when the faint scent of blood hit him. Scott must have smelled it too because he growled low in his throat, making the three other Betas get to their feet and peer curiously over the head of the seats.

“What's–” Erica started to ask, stopping when Derek pulled on the hem of Stiles shirt. She opened her mouth again but didn't have a chance to add anything; instead she gasped. On Stiles' torso, right over his heart, there were three puncture marks, not bleeding anymore though there was evidence of a few drops of blood having leaked from the wounds. Around each point, purple and red bruises painted Stiles chest.

It looked painful. Even in his sleep, Stiles gasped when Derek lightly put his fingers on one of the bruise.

“What the hell?” Scott asked, still remembering to speak in low tone even though there was an edge of panic to his voice.

“Scott,” Derek said in a voice that didn't betray any of his feelings -fear, dread, anger, a sudden urge to throw up- “as discreetly as you can, turn on your phone and text Deaton. Send him a picture of this too.”

Scott swallowed audibly, moved around Derek to snap a photo as best as he could, and when he was done Derek rolled Stiles' shirt back down. “Sit down,” he said to the Betas. This wasn't anything humans could help with, and he didn't need to draw attention to them. That was also why he really needed to keep himself in check: a distressed Alpha made his Betas' feelings ten times worse.

They didn't have to wait long for an answer.

_Mare. Stiles will have better chances if awake. Find quiet place as soon as off the plane and call me._

Derek looked at the phone with wide eyes. 'Better chances if awake'? How was that supposed to help them if they didn't know how to wake him up? And _better chances_? That sounded way too much like a very bad prognosis.

“Excuse me,” he whispered in a broken voice, getting up and stepping over Scott. He walked in a daze, remembering nothing of the trip to the bathroom until he was inside and the door was locked. As soon as he was out of eyesight, Derek needed to support himself with one hand on each wall.

He started panting, or sobbing. He honestly couldn't tell, couldn't even say if he was crying or if his eyes were dry. All he knew was the tightening of his throat until he could barely breathe at all. Thankfully, he was well practiced enough that he didn't lose total control over his shift -and wasn't it sad that he had enough heartbreak in his life to know how to manage it.

He forced himself to take three big gulps of air and release each slowly through his nose. Then he raised his head again and swallowed. He was shaking. It was the only thing he knew for sure there was no use in trying to control, so he simply used some water to splash his face. And got out again.

The Betas were brainstorming in hushed tones already when he got back to his seat, Scott up and turned towards their row. Derek couldn't bear to look at Stiles until he figured out a way to make him open his eyes so he mirrored Scott's position and stayed turned to Erica, Isaac and Boyd. There was no way to block out the sounds Stiles made though, like he was restless in his sleep.

“I tried to ask Deaton how to wake Stiles up, but he just said it depends on the person.”

Helpful. Derek resisted the urge to growl out in frustration -Deaton had that effect on everyone except Scott apparently- and tried to stay clear headed. That was the only way to solve this and gain enough time for Deaton to work out whatever plan he had.

“Waking up Stiles...,” Derek thought out loud.

“This might be stupid, but...,” Scott started, and Derek turned to him fully, jerking his head to give him the go-ahead. There was no stupid ideas in this situation. “Stiles' had the same alarm since he was a kid...,” Scott hesitated, glanced sideways but Derek was blocking his view of his best friend. “Something his mom used to like. Anyway, I know we tried shaking him and calling him but maybe something Stiles linked to waking up for so long could work?”

Derek thought about it. On one hand, it couldn't be that simple, could it? On the other, conditioning was a pretty powerful tool.

“It wouldn't hurt to try,” he muttered, then got down to sit properly. He felt the other three get up to watch Scott take Stiles phone and unlock it like the guy didn't have a letters, numbers and symbols password on it.

“So paranoid,” Isaac mumbled, while Erica just whistled at Scott's knowledge of his best friend.

“Okay...worth a shot,” Scott said, getting headphones out of his bag and plugging them to the phone. Derek looked at the motions blankly, wondering how he could be so useless right now. He knew part of it was the panic, but Scott's hand were shaking, proof enough that he was terrified too, and he was still doing something.

Scott handed Derek the headphones, and he turned to delicately put them on Stiles' ears. Stiles was cold and clammy to the touch, and Derek noted with worry that his heartbeat had slowed down while he was focused on finding a solution.

Scott took a deep breath. Everyone else hold theirs. And he pressed play.

 

Stiles was lying on a cold, wet forest floor. Staring at the stars. And dying. Painfully, agonizingly slowly dying.

He couldn't even tell from what. Couldn't say where he was, when he was, and how he got there. But the worse thing, probably, was that he knew deep down that no one was coming.

He couldn't move.

And, scratch the previous statement, the worst thing wasn't that no one was coming. It was that one person did come. And it was his mom.

Any other circumstances and he would have wept with joy. As it was, he was pretty sure this was a nightmare because his very worst fear was standing right next to him and sneering down at him. He wasn't sure when she got there either, because the moment seemed to stretch to infinity. He was pretty sure she was repeating the same thing over and over again but time bent and twisted until it all blended together. Pain, guilt, and her.

_You deserve this, you know. You killed me._

Was that tears he felt rolling down the sides of his face? It was so hot it could've been blood. Stiles breath came out in short pants. He wished for this to end.

He honest to god _prayed_ and he had stopped believing that any entity would be listening when his mom got sick.

_You deserve this, you know. You killed me._

Some dark, buried part of him agreed. The other used years of therapy to remind himself his mother's death hadn't been his fault. To remind himself that hearing your worst fear being spoken didn't make it true.

He clang to each and every time someone had said that it wasn't. His. Fault.

It didn't make it any less painful to hear it from her mouth, with her face looking down so hatefully at him. Even in her last moments she hadn't done hatred, not towards him. She had been afraid, yes. Never loathing.

_You deserve this, you know. You killed me._

Stiles stopped trying to grasp at any sense of time. Even counting her saying this like it was seconds on a clock didn't work, because the memory of it slipped through his fingers. God, everything hurt so much. He summoned every happy thought he had, then lost hope; repeated the cycle over and over. As many time as needed, he remembered his dad, his Pack, Derek. The night with Derek. Was it yesterday or years ago?

Just as he lost hope once again, sobbing out, still unable to do anything else but stare at the blurring night sky, something changed.

Music echoed around him, so loud it was painful. He flinched and closed his eyes by reflex.

When he opened them again, heart trying to beat out of his chest and breath frantic, he was on a plane, and the Futurama theme song was still blaring in his ears.

Derek's worried face loomed in front of him, and it took him a second to realize the music was moving away from him, like it was in Derek's hands. Stiles couldn't look away to understand what was happening, the memory of his torture still too vivid, the pain not having left at all; but over all that there was Derek.

Stiles sobbed again, but this time it was in relief. When he came back to himself, his was clutching at Derek's shirt like it was a lifeline. And in many ways, it was.

 

The hour left until landing never felt longer. Derek couldn't stop anxiously looking at the stewardesses as if it could make the plane go faster. Next to him, Scott was tapping his foot up and down nervously. Behind him, the Betas were not doing any better.

On his other side, Stiles was gritting his teeth and had a death grip on the armrests, eyes unfocused as he was desperately trying to ignore the pain. Derek couldn't tell if Stiles was weakening or if the pain was worsening, but either way Stiles was obviously losing the battle.

He had woken up abruptly, and it felt like the weirdest luck that the alarm trick had worked. Erica had chuckled in relief over the voice of Isaac commenting on the choice of music. Derek just felt like this small victory announced a bigger defeat, because his life sucked like that.

Just as they announced the landing, Derek had a sudden and horrifying thought. Getting off a place took _ages_. He turned to Scott who called a stewardess as soon as Derek was finished talking.

“Excuse me,” Scott said to the young lady who glanced at Stiles but didn't let her smile waver, “my friend isn't feeling very well. Could one of us get off with him before the other passengers so we can get him to a doctor?”

Scott was betting on the fact that this close to landing, they wouldn't try to ask if a doctor was on board. The lady looked at Stiles for a few seconds, considering, then in her soft professional voice asked Scott to wait at second while she went to talk with the others.

Soon enough, she was back. “We'll make an announcement to get you all off first,” she said, and Derek let out a sigh of relief, tuning out her conversation with Scott to turn to Stiles. He put a hand on his forehead, finding it hotter than minutes before, his eyes glazed over but his body still tensed.

“We'll be off soon,” he promised in a low voice, not knowing what to do to comfort Stiles. He was about to burst out of his skin with worry and fear.

When the plane landed, Derek was surprised to see that the crew had actually meant that they would let off their whole group first. Other passengers murmured when they passed, some in worry, some grumpily. Derek was only focused on supporting Stiles weight as best as his could in the narrow alley until they were out.

The trip out was tedious, but as soon as they were in the actual airport Derek moved to put Stiles arm around his shoulder and they moved more easily. The Betas were following anxiously, scanning the area for any place they could go to fix this.

Stiles seemed unaware of all this, quietly moaning under his breath and gradually losing strength until he went almost limp and Derek had to scoop him up and carry him. People looked at them curiously but no one stopped them, and it wasn't long until Isaac quietly tugged on Derek's sleeve to point at a bathroom in an almost empty hall with a sign on the door that said “out of order”.

They moved together to it and got in without wasting any time when they saw it wasn't locked. Erica spread out the hoodie she was carrying on the floor so Derek could put Stiles on it. Scott was already dialing Deaton when they all turned to him, but Derek's attention was redirected to Stiles when he moved.

“H– hurts,” he brokenly whispered, eyes searching for Derek without being able to focus on anything.

“I know, I know,” Derek whispered back, caressing Stiles' forehead, pushing hair out of his eyes. It was getting too long.

“You're on speaker,” Scott announced into his phone before putting it down next to where Derek was kneeling.

“I have a way to...exorcise the creature, in a way of speaking,” the vet's voice came through. “You want to hold Stiles down,” his tone was grim and he hesitated, which was never a good thing with Deaton. “I have to warn you that if he's too weak already, the toll it'll take on his body...”

“Do it,” Derek growled, eyes flashing red. He knew, dammit, he _knew_. He could feel Stiles' life through the bond that linked them together as a Pack, and its light was dulling. Stiles was–

Derek let out a sob. Scott moved to Stiles' other side and put his hand on his best friend's shoulder. He was crying already. “Do it,” Derek repeated. This was their only chance.

Without waiting any longer, Deaton started to speak in a foreign language.

And Stiles started screaming.

Erica got close, rolling up the sleeve of some clothes she had close by before putting it between Stiles' teeth. He clamped down on it, but it only muffled the sound so no one outside could hear it.

Isaac turned away and Boyd moved closer to him to give and find comfort. Erica stayed by Stiles' feet, trying to stop them from pushing at the ground without hurting him any more. Stiles back was arching off the floor; unperturbed, Deaton kept talking.

It must have taken less than a minute. It felt like an eternity, watching Stiles writhe in agony, and Derek's heart broke a little more with each new tear and broken scream. He was pretty sure he could never stop feeling Stiles' pain as his own, deep in his bones. He was pretty sure nothing would help him forget these sixty seconds holding Stiles down.

Sixty seconds until it stopped. Everything. Just...stopped.

Deaton fell silent, the room grew unnaturally still, the world seemed to stop spinning. On the floor, Stiles was quiet. Body slack. Heartbeat absent.

“No,” Derek said, “no, no, no, please, no. Don't, god please,” he pleaded to anyone who would listen. His hands hovered aimlessly, breath stuck in his lungs. He couldn't do anything.

Again, Scott took control of he situation. Pushing up his sleeves, he locked his hands together over Stiles chest and started doing compressions. Derek was stuck in a loop inside his own head, and he watched Scott work through a thick fog. He couldn't believe...he refused to believe...

Scott bent down to breathe into Stiles mouth. Then started to count again. No movie ever prepared Derek for the way it seemed like Scott was doing more harm than good with the way Stiles chest was caving with each pump. They all heard bones grind and snap.

Scott bent down again. Derek was ready to push him away to do it himself, to yell at Stiles to _wake up dammit, not now, please wake up!_ But just as Scott straightened up again and got ready for another round of compression, Stiles gasped for air.

To the sound of his heartbeat, Isaac and Boyd sank to the floor. Erica put her forehead on Stiles' knee. Scott chuckled as he sobbed, sweat dripping down his face.

Derek closed his eyes. Tears welled up in his eyes as he leaned until his ear was on Stiles' chest, listening to the beautiful rhythm of life. Listening. Listening. And listening again.

 

**Author's Note:**

> And then they call an ambulance and explain what the hell they were all doing in out-of-order bathrooms, Stiles gets better, he goes on a date with Derek, they marry and adopt loads of kids! Isn't life wonderful? :D 
> 
> Kudos and comments, as usual, are very precious to any author that ever authored.   
> I'm also on [tumblr](http://kinsbournescream.tumblr.com) and I'd love to talk there or in the comments if you ever feel like it.  
> Love you all <3


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